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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27919354">Shattered Pieces</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AraSigyrn/pseuds/AraSigyrn'>AraSigyrn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Booker | Sebastien le Livre makes amends, Canon Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani and Nicky | Nicolò di Genova are in Love, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:55:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,602</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27919354</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AraSigyrn/pseuds/AraSigyrn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"I loved my wife," Sebastien starts and Joe snorts.</p><p>"You loved your wife for twenty four years," he says.  "You spent nearly ten years of <em>that</em> in the army or prison.  Nicky was my life for more than nine hundred."</p><p>AU from the escape from the lab.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Booker | Sebastien le Livre &amp; Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>828</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Shattered Pieces</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After...</p><p><em>After</em>, they end up in London.  A pub that they used to visit during the search for Quỳnh in the 1700s, Sebastien thinks.  He stays on the gravel spit that the Londoners call a beach while the others decide his fate.  There's refuse floating in the stinky water.  He has his hip flask but his hands won't stop shaking.  He can't get it open.  He rubs his sleeve across his eyes when he hears the crunch of gravel underfoot.</p><p>Andy is in the lead as always.  She's the one who pronounces their verdict.</p><p>Exile.</p><p>One hundred years.</p><p>Sebastien looks at Joe before he can catch himself.  Joe is staring past him, no expression on his face.  He must catch the movement because he turns his head slightly and Sebastien recoils from the emptiness in his eyes.  Andy looks between them.</p><p>"One hundred years, Book," she says.  </p><p>She looks at Joe who doesn't look at her.  Perhaps he doesn't need to.  A thousand years and Joe has never been as cowardly as Sebastien.  He loves with an open heart and returns the love and trust given to him with effusive generosity.  Sebastien resented him for that.  It is much harder to hold on to hating yourself when a man like Joe loves you so well.  Sebastien paws at his eyes again.</p><p>Andy leads Nile away.  Nile looks back and Sebastien can't muster a reassuring expression.  He manages a rictus of a smile before he looks back at Joe.</p><p>Joe is staring at him.  Through him.  Sebastien had thought that seeing Joe's fury in the lab had been agony.  He hadn't imagined how it would feel to have Joe look at him as if he weren't even there.  He swallows.  "Joe, I'm-"</p><p>"Do not try to tell me that you are sorry," Joe says, each word clipped and harsh.  "Do not pretend that you know <em>anything</em> of what I feel."</p><p>"I loved my wife," Sebastien starts and Joe snorts.</p><p>"You loved your wife for twenty four years," he says.  "You spent nearly ten years of <em>that</em> in the army or prison.  Nicky was my life for more than nine hundred."</p><p>"I know," Sebastien winces away from the words even as he speaks them.</p><p>"You loved your wife for a quarter of a century," Joe repeats.  "And you mourned for two."</p><p>"Oui," Sebastien says.</p><p>"I lived my whole life," Joe says, remorseless, "since Jerusalem, I have never spent more than a handful of days without him.  He was the moon in darkness, the north star when I was lost, the warmth of the sun on my skin and the joy of my existence.  I lived for his smile.  His touch was worth any pain, any fear.  His love was a gift far beyond my deserving.  I cannot sleep because he is not in my arms.  I cannot eat because what could compare to his cooking?  I cannot speak because he is not here to hear me.  I cannot forgive because his gentle heart has stopped."</p><p>Sebastien can barely breathe around his tears.</p><p>"Andy's time may have come," Joe says.  "It was not Nicky's time.  We came to this life together and we were always meant to leave it together.  You took him from me before his time, Sebastien.  Allah the all-merciful could not forgive such a sin.  How can I?"</p><p>He doesn't wait for Sebastien's non-existent answer, just turns and walks away.  Sebastien claps both hands to his mouth to keep in the howl of grief.  He doesn't see them leave through the haze of tears.  He has only his guilt and the endless howling grief.</p>
<hr/><p>Sebastien goes to Paris.  James gets him a ticket for a ferry and Sebastien is too drunk to function before the ship leaves port.  He dies of alcohol poisoning twice before the memory of Nicky sitting with him as he recovered from the first time he drank himself to death surfaces.  Joe had been too exuberant, Andy too remote, so Nicky had been the one to sit by Sebastien in the ditch.  Nicky hadn't talked to him but he'd sung a quiet lullabye just loud enough that Sebastien could focus on that instead of the pain of his liver regenerating.</p><p>The next drink he takes doesn't hit the back of his throat before he's throwing it up.</p><p>Without the alcohol, Sebastien has only his thoughts as he sits in a train rattling its way across Northern France.  Even the beauty of his homeland cannot soothe his mind.  Every time he closes his eyes, he sees Nicky limp on the floor and Joe contorted in agony above him.  Sebastien remembers the halo of blood on the floor and has to run to the bathroom before he's sick.</p><p>Joe had broken his arm when Sebastien tried to pull him away.  Their shouting brought Andy back, Nile a step behind her.  Joe was calling for Nicky even as Sebastien and Andy finally muscled him out of the room.  They'd killed Merrick at least but the doctor and the other, the abâtardi who put his gun in Nicky's mouth and left their shared soul dead on the concrete, they escaped.</p><p>Sebastien buys a bottle of whiskey and downs the whole thing.  He buys vodka at the station and drinks that as the whiskey wears off.  He buys rum after that and then he loses track.  He buys whatever he can afford, steals what he can't and devotes all of his energies to staying drunk enough that he cannot remember anything but the ache in his head and the acid in his belly.</p><p>He might have spent the entire century like that but Quỳnh finds him after less than two weeks and twenty deaths.</p><p>Sebastien doesn't even see her.  He just stumbles through his door to find her dressed in red at his sink.  He thinks she's a nightmare, one of those dreams that jumbles familiar things into new and horrifying patterns and leaves one disoriented and afraid on waking.  She smiles and Sebastien sees Andromache in the feral edge to it.</p><p>He still thinks she's a dream right up until Quỳnh nails him to the wall with a knife straight through his heart.</p><p>"That is for Nico," she whispers in his ear and the last thing Sebastien hears is her very deliberately smashing his bottle of gin.</p><p>He dies a dozen times as his body forces the knife back out.  Each one a reproach and a reminder that death will not come for him.  When he finally falls to the floor, hearing his breath gargle through the still-healing hole in his chest, Sebastien is entirely sober.</p><p>He is alone.  Again.</p><p>He can smell the sharp gin as he jerks awake from that final death.  Sebastien gets his knees under himself before he collapses into tears.  It is not fair that Quỳnh should come now.  Their long-lost sister comes back to a family that is more broken than she left it.  She had loved Nicky, Sebastien knows.  He knows because Nicky had loved her, his grief when Sebastien had asked who the drowning woman was had been humbling.  Nicky should have been here to welcome her back.  It should have been Sebastien's body left in that fucking office.</p><p>Sebastien is suddenly furious.  </p><p>He's been angry since their escape but the grief was always stronger.  Right now,  Sebastien's anger is winning.  If any of them were to die, it <em>should</em> have been him.  The fucking doctor couldn't even get that right.  Sebastien was never a noble warrior.  He was always a bastard.  The doctor should have read the files James kept on them.</p><p>He has to find and charge his phone before he can call Copley.  His personal number, the one that Sebastien knows he'll never change because it's the number his wife had memorized.</p><p>Sebastien was always a bastard.  His family are the only reason he hasn't spent two centuries <em>being</em> a bastard.</p><p>Copley sounds surprised to hear from him.  He says as much and Sebastien scoffs.  He does ask "The others...?"</p><p>"Taking a break," Copley says.  "Andromache said they'd be in touch.  I'm pretty sure they're still in Europe, probably the mainland but that's all I know."</p><p>Sebastien breathes through the pain.  "Good.  I need your help."</p><p>"Anything," Copley says and Sebastien would laugh if he could.</p><p>"The doctor in the lab," he says.</p><p>"Meta Kozak," Copley says grimly.  "What about her?"</p><p>"She escaped," Sebastien says.  "I want to know where she is."</p><p>"Just her?" Copley asks carefully.</p><p>"Yes," Sebastien says.  He doesn't know the name of Nicky's murderer.  He doesn't need to.  That man is dead.  Joe just hasn't caught up to him yet.</p><p>"I'll see what I can do," Copley says.  "Are you going to pick up if I call you back?"</p><p>"Oui," Sebastien says and hangs up.</p><p>It takes an hour to clean his rooms enough that the busybody Madame across the courtyard won't call the police when she comes peeking in his windows.  Sebastien finds three passports that should still be good, his emergency bag and, in his wallet, five hundred euro.  He swallows and digs out the money he keeps under the sink instead.</p><p>Copley calls back before Sebastien can succumb to the urge to start drinking again. The doctor has fled the UK, proving herself more intelligent than her former employer.  She is still listed as a shareholder in Merrick Pharmaceuticals according to Copley which means she has money.  She's in Eastern Europe and Booker vaguely remembers the city from the misery of the Cold War.  Copley sends him the files.  All of Merrick's surviving people and their mundane little crimes.</p><p>"She still has Keane, as far as I can tell," Copley says.</p><p>"Keane?"</p><p>"The head of security," Copley hesitates.  "The man who..."</p><p>"Oh."  Sebastien clenches his free hand into a fist.  "Him."</p><p>"I was surprised you didn't want to know where he was," Copley says, that damnable curiosity surfacing again.  If he had only learned not to ask questions, none of this would have happened.</p><p>"He's not mine to kill," Sebastien says simply.</p><p>"He could be a threat," Copley says.  "He knows a lot about you."</p><p>"He's a dead man," Sebastien says dismissively.  "He just doesn't know it yet."</p><p>There's a pause then Copley moves on.  "I can get you a plane ticket.  Or a train ticket if you'd rather."</p><p>"I'll manage."</p><p>"I'm here if you need me," Copley says before Sebastien hangs up.</p><p>It takes him three days to travel to the city and Sebastien finds their old house intact.  The door to their cache is jammed but he forces it without too much trouble.  He doesn't bother with the guns that had been his; he didn't store them properly.  He doesn't even look at the half-full bottles of bootlegged liquor.  He goes for the case carefully triple-wrapped in plastic and tucks it under his arm.  He leaves before the sun sets and the police start taking an interest in people hanging around abandoned houses.</p><p>He brought gun oil from Paris and he opens the case in his hotel room.  The rifle is in excellent condition.  The Dragunov comes together as if it had been used the day before.  There are fifteen sniper rounds in the case.  Sebastien had gotten Nicky twenty and Joe had laughed for ten solid minutes at the expression on Nicky's face.  Six targets, Nicky had said, as if Sebastien hadn't been paying attention.  Sebastien hadn't been able to keep a straight face after that.  The memory of the three of them laughing together is so real, he almost hears the echoes.</p><p>Sebastien's hand shakes and he drops two of the bullets before he can get hold of himself.  </p><p>It takes another day and a half to find Dr Kozak.  Merrick purchased one building outright and leases floors in adjoining buildings, all ugly concrete blocks from the Soviet era.  The only identifying feature is the abstract concrete sculpture in front of it.  She doesn't leave the building owned by Merrick; another lab from what little Copley could find in the company's records.  Sebastien has a stroke of luck when he sees some familiar faces in the lobby of that building.  </p><p>Sebastien chooses his perch with care.  He can almost hear Nicky's voice in his head.  Sightlines over all, he remembers.  Three escape routes at least.  The higher the better.  Nobody remembers to look up.  Don't wear anything that might catch the light.  Don't wear anything that makes you stand out in a crowd.  Cover as much of your skin as you can.</p><p>He settles on the roof of an adjoining building just as dawn is starting to break.  He's not Nicky.  He's a decent shot but he doesn't trust his aim over more than two hundred metres.  The roof is gritty and there are small chips of slate under his belly as he breathes.  Sebastien watches through the scope as men in black tactical gear stalk up and down the corridor.  His lip curls.</p><p>He remembers them.  All brash brutality and brittle brains.  Merrick had chosen them because that's what he had wanted to be under all his lofty talk; the biggest bully in the room.  One of them still has the imprint of Sebastien's knuckles on his face in muddy bruises.  He feels a grim satisfaction at that.</p><p>He sees Kozak once in the morning; a blond head amid a knot of black helmets.  He can't get a clear shot but he studies her through the scope.  She looks haggard, her hair scraped back tightly and shadows under her eyes.  Still, she moves with purpose.  Sebastien's finger twitches for the trigger.</p><p>He waits.  He has to be sure.  The weather is brisk, summer slowly giving way to the winter chill.  Sebastien does not feel it, only notes that his breath mists the air and pulls up his scarf.  He watches the door that Doctor Kozak entered.  He rests his finger on the trigger this time.  He waits.</p><p>Hours later, the door opens and Sebastien comes alert.  He slows his breathing, leans a little into the scope as if he could see beyond the shadow of the door.  The guards on the door turn and one of them goes in.  The other peers in around the door instead of watching the corridor.  Idiot.</p><p>Sebastien curses them all.</p><p>The man who steps out of the room, framing his face in Sebastien's scope, is hatefully familiar.  Keane, Copley called him.  Sebastien reaches for his phone and brings up the camera.  It takes a little maneuvering to get the camera lens to focus through the scope.  Sebastien means to send it to Copley to send it to Joe.  He's distracted for less than twenty seconds and when he looks back, Keane is motioning at two of the guards who are dragging a body between them.  The body jerks, head coming up.</p><p>Sebastien freezes.</p><p><em>Nicky</em>.</p><p>He thinks he's gone mad.  His hand jerks.  He barely misses the trigger.  He stares at the screen then tosses the phone aside to press his eye to the scope so he can see for himself.  Two hundred years teaches a lot about a person.  Sebastien knows the shape of Nicky's shoulders, the exact colour of his eyes and he could pick him from a crowd of millions.  He <em>knows</em> his brother.</p><p>He is sure that it is Nicky even before Nicky sweeps the leg from under one of his guards, both of them crashing into Keane and then the ground.  Sebastien scrambles to get the gun up.</p><p>Before he can take a shot, Nicky stills.</p><p>Sebastien sees his shoulders slump and he looks towards the door.  Doctor Kozak is standing over Nicky.  She must be saying something.  Sebastien stares through the scope and the pieces all come together at once.</p><p>Nicky could have fought harder.  Nicky could have won that fight.  Nicky has surrendered.  There is only one possible reason that Nicky would yield in the face of people like Kozak and Keane.  Only one explanation for why Nicky has not escaped.  Nicky is fearless of his own pain.  The only threat that matters to Nicky is a threat to Joe.  Or Andy, newly mortal.  Sebastien sees the whole sordid trick in one flash of insight.</p><p>Nicky believes they are all still captive.</p><p>If he woke in that office, alone or surrounded by Keane's goons, Nicky would have been lost.  He would have believed the others taken too.  What was the alternative?  That they left Nicky to wake alone and vulnerable?</p><p>No, Nicky loves them too much to believe that.</p><p>Sebastien finds a new well of hatred inside himself but pushes it aside.  His mission has changed.  Fuck Kozak.  He'll gut the bitch if he gets the chance but Sebastien's highest priority is Nicky.</p><p>He slides backwards, grabbing for his phone.  He kills the recording, locks it and slips it into his pocket.  The gun comes apart easily enough in his shaking hands.  Sebastien tucks it into its case and grabs his rucksack.  He leaves the gun in a locker by the grim grey train station.  </p><p><em>Desolé, Nicky,</em> he thinks and promises he will buy Nicky a new rifle just as soon as they are free.</p><p>He waits until he is seated at a tiny table in the tiny cafe on the corner before he pulls out his phone.  Sebastien burns his mouth on the coffee twice before he can make himself open the video.  He looks again.  Again, he sees Nicky.  His eyes close and he finds himself whispering a prayer of thanksgiving in Genoese.  </p><p>Then he opens his eyes and starts to plan his next move.</p>
<hr/><p>An intelligent man would have waited.  </p><p>A canny man would have done more research.</p><p>Sebastien is neither intelligent nor canny.  Only desperate.  He buys the largest bottle of the cheapest vodka he can find and a cheap burner phone from a seedy little shop.  He sits on a bench by the river and drinks a third of the bottle, slopping vodka on his shirt and chest as he does.  Then he calls Copley; tells him that he's sending a file that Copley must get to Joe as soon as he can.</p><p>"Joe?  Not Andy?"</p><p>"Joe." Sebastien says.  If he knew Nicky in that first twenty seconds, Joe will know him from the first frame.  "If Andy wants to see it, let her but you must get it to Joe."</p><p>"Alright," Copley sounds dubious.</p><p>"I am switching on my location," Sebastien tells him.  "I have thirteen hours of battery left."</p><p>"Wait," Copley says.  "Booker, don't do anything stupid!  Whatever you're planning, there's no need-!"</p><p>"Make sure Joe sees it," Sebastien says and hangs up.  He silences his phone and rises from the bench he was sitting on.  He makes his way back to the building and leaves his phone in a crevice of the ugly sculpture in front of it before he circles around to the front door.  He splashes more of the vodka around his mouth and hair until the reek of it makes him sick.  He pulls out the burner phone and dials one of Copley's defunct numbers.  The one he'd used with Merrick.  He has four minutes before the voice-mail will cut out.</p><p>Sebastien waits just around the corner until he sees the guards beginning their patrol of the lobby.  It's the one wearing his bruises and Sebastien hits 'call' as he steps around the corner.  He's not entirely faking the lurch in his steps.  He's drunk enough to be light-headed but two centuries of abuse means he's sobering fast.  He staggers like he's one more swig from blackout and launches into a tirade of French and Italian insults.  The call connects.</p><p>"Fucking son-of-a-whore!" Sebastien slurs.  "Fucking answer me, Copley!"</p><p>He sees the guards look around.  He thinks they're going to look right past him for a second but the one with the bruises takes a second look and visibly startles.  He goes for his radio immediately.  Sebastien can't hear what he says.  He keeps staggering across the path in front of the windows, still cursing out Copley.  A few bystanders hurry past him, eyes averted.  A loud drunk is just the right kind of invisible.  The guards come out of the door just as Sebastien passes it.  He lets them pull him into the building, one arm around his throat and the other guard peering around as he is hauled through the doors.</p><p>They don't even try to talk to him; they're both babbling on their radios.  Sebastien catches "Copley" and "French" but he's still slurring curses.  One of the guards looks at him.</p><p>"That didn't sound like French?"</p><p>"'s Italian you dumbass," the one with the bruises says.  Sebastien calls him a son of a donkey's whore in Italian and gets the butt of a gun across his chin.  "They all speak Italian like normal people speak English."</p><p>Sebastien hides his scoff in another torrent of abuse.  The guards snort at each other, comfortably back in their roles now.  The elevator doors screech as they open and Keane comes out.  He looks a little more ragged than he had in London; poor sleep and heightened stress, Sebastien would wager.</p><p>Keane doesn't need a second glance to know Booker.</p><p>"Get him upstairs," he orders.  "Any sign of the others?"</p><p>"Just him," the guard says.  "Stinks like a drunk."</p><p>"Take the downstairs squad," Keane says, "search the perimeter.  Ground level.  They don't have a sniper so they'll be below the fourth floor.  Go!"</p><p><em>You have our sniper</em>, Sebastien thinks savagely.  <em>But not for much longer.</em></p><p>He doesn't let any of that show on his face.  He gapes at Keane like the man's a stranger.  He calls him a dog-buggering Russian shithead.  Keane doesn't speak French but he clearly recognizes the tone.  He backhands Sebastien hard enough that Sebastien sees stars.  The elevator lurches as his vision clears.  </p><p>Sebastien will give Keane this much; the man controls the flow of information.  The guard is shushed before he can say anything about Nicky.  If Sebastien hadn't already known, he wouldn't have guessed from what Keane lets him hear.  Sebastien curses at them indiscriminately.  Keane's got his phone, checking the number Sebastien called against his own phone and scowling.</p><p>"Who were you calling?" he demands.</p><p>"Go fuck yourself," Sebastien spits and Keane punches him.</p><p>"Who were you calling?" Keane repeats.</p><p>"A cheating lying whore!" Sebastien spits.  "He fucked me better than your mother did!"</p><p>His jaw cracks under Keane's fist and Sebastien staggers.  The doors open and Doctor Kozak is waiting on the other side.  She looks worse from this close but Sebastien can see the gleam in her eye.  Fucking fanatics.  He's never trusted them and he should have known better to trust her.</p><p>"You..." he slurs.  "The fucking doctor!  It is you!"</p><p>He lunges forward but Keane is between them.  He drives his fist into Sebastien's gut, hard enough that something ruptures.  Sebastien barely feels it.  He remembers Copely's files; Keane has a history of sadism.  Lovers and friends who crossed him ended up in hospital with an unsettling frequency.  Sebastien wonders what Keane might be capable of if his victim couldn't escape him even through death.  He spits blood at the man's feet.</p><p>"Bring him to the lab," the doctor is smart enough to stay well out of his range.</p><p>"Fucking bitch!" Sebastien spits.  "Useless fucking idiot!  You couldn't get it right!"</p><p>"What is he talking about?" Keane looks at the doctor.</p><p>"I don't know," she says dismissively.</p><p>"I should have died!" Sebastien roars.  "Not him!  Not Nicky!  But he is dead!  And I am alone!"</p><p>"He is complaining," the doctor snorts, lips pinching in a nasty smile.  "He wanted to die.  Instead of his friend."</p><p>"Nicky was my fucking brother!" Sebastien starts that sentence in French, ends it in Italian.  "My brother, you bitch!"</p><p>"Let us not keep him hanging out here," the doctor says.  She goes before them, the lab doors swinging open.  There is one cot with a weaselly little man in scrubs standing over it.  On the cot, eyes already widening, is Nicky.</p><p>"Nicky!" Sebastien wasn't ready.  He thought he was but his feet falter all by themselves.  The guard laughs.  Keane's smirking.  Holding Nicky's gaze is the hardest thing Sebastien's ever done.  Harder than sitting at his son's bedside.  Harder than walking away from the house that had been his home.  Harder than dragging Joe from the building while he screamed for his beloved.</p><p>This part, Sebastien has planned.  He starts to babble; curses and prayers all jumbled together.  Those are for the guard who speaks French and Italian.  In between, Sebastien says "Trick.  Trap.  Only you.  They're free." in Ligurian.  The modern ear won't catch them.  Not tucked away in the middle of the French and Italian.  The doctor and Keane don't see how Nicky's eyes widen just a fraction more.  The way his jaw unclenches the tiniest bit.  Sebastien has two hundred years of fluency in Nicky's guarded expressions.</p><p>Nicky knows him better even than that.  Nicky did not spend a century lying to himself about how much he was loved.  So Nicky curls a lip and calls Sebastien a diseased son of a leperous goat, fit only to be torn to pieces by rabid dogs.</p><p>The guard doesn't expect Sebastien to lunge forward.  There are a dozen scalpels on the tray that Sebastien sends crashing to the floor.  One he catches without their captors seeing.  When Keane and the guard pile onto him, driving him to the floor, neither of them notice the brief flash of metal.  All their attention is on him and Sebastien wheezes laughter as they pin him.</p><p>"What's he laughing at?" Keane sounds furious.  "What's so fucking funny, asshole!?"</p><p>If Sebastien had the breath to answer, he might tell him.  (The joke is this - two hundred years of watching people call Joe a Sarcen, a savage, a Turk or a Haji because Joe is passionate and charismatic and wields words as skillfully as his saif.  Two hundred years of everyone looking at Joe and looking right past his loving shadow.  Nicky is quiet.  Nicky is soft-spoken.  Nicky is kind.  Merrick called Nicky a mouse, Sebastien remembers Joe saying.  The man was a fool but there have been a great many fools over their long shared life.</p><p>This is the punchline; Nicky is quiet and Nicky is kind because Nicky's rage is a wild and terrible thing.  Nicky does not lose his temper because of the wreckage that it leaves.  Nicky's rage is hellfire on earth and it leaves nothing standing in its wake.)</p><p>Sebastien doesn't get the chance to say this, even if he'd wanted to.  Keane and the guards are focused on him.  They've taken their eyes off Nicky.  </p><p>Sebastien could only cut one of the straps.  Nicky only needs one.</p><p>The man in the scrubs dies first, his scream still echoing around the lab as his body hits the floor.  The guard with the bruises dies next.  Keane's smart enough to duck back as more guards pour through the door.  Sebastien gasps for air and Nicky's snarl comes like an answer.</p><p>The doctor runs.  Keane follows.  All the others are dead before Sebastien can get his feet under him.  Nicky is standing over the bodies, panting.  He turns to Booker, fury still shining in his eyes.</p><p>"Is it true?  Is he free?"</p><p>"He's free," Sebastien croaks.  He sees Nicky's nose wrinkle at the smell of booze.  "They all are.  He thinks you're dead, Nicky.  We all did!"</p><p>Nicky winces from that.  There's a cut on his cheek that's still leaking blood.  Sebastien's heart stops.  His hands are shaking when he points at it.  "You're still bleeding! You're not healing!"</p><p>Nicky lifts a hand to his cheek as if he hadn't noticed.  He looks at the blood then shakes his head at the horror in Sebastien's face.  "It's just slow.  The doctor's...pozoni?  The drugs?  Slows the healing.  That's all."</p><p>Sebastien's already moving.  Too fast to be safe.  Nicky startles back half a step before Sebastien gets his arms around him.  He feels the way Nicky stiffens in his embrace but Sebastien is crying again.  He can feel Nicky's breath expand his chest, feel the heat of his body and feel his heart racing from the fight.  Nicky stinks of bleach and antiseptic under the blood and sweat of the fight.  Underneath that, he smells like Nicky.</p><p>"Booker?" Nicky's arms come up to return the embrace.  "Stai bene?"</p><p>"I'm fine," Sebastien...no, <em>Booker</em> manages.  "I just...we -<em>I</em>- thought you were <em>dead</em>!  You didn't get up after that motherfucker shot you in the mouth!  I thought it was like Andy but she didn't get hurt like that!  It was my fault and you were dead and we had to leave you on the floor and..."</p><p>His voice cracks and Nicky hugs him back.</p><p>"I am here," he says.  "It is not my time, Booker.  It was not then and it is not now."</p><p>Booker chokes back his tears but still it takes nearly a whole minute before he can let Nicky go.  The cut on Nicky's cheek has closed and Booker touches it lightly.  Nicky allows Booker's fingers to brush his cheek.  Then he bends to pick up one of the guards' guns.  "I suppose it is too much to hope you had a plan beyond this?"</p><p>"I had a plan all along," Booker hunkers down to gather all the weapons that he can find.</p><p>"There are many guards," Nicky warns him.  "A great many."</p><p>"That's fine," Booker tells him as he stands.  "We just have to find somewhere defensible."</p><p>"Booker," Nicky says and there's genuine worry threaded through the exasperation.  </p><p>"I'll explain as we go," Booker promises and Nicky hisses a breath through his teeth.</p><p>"Where are the others?"</p><p>"Europe," Booker says as he leads Nicky to the other door.  Nicky tries to pass him but Booker stays in the lead.  There's only the dead behind them and Nicky is healing too slowly for Booker's comfort.  "I don't know where exactly."</p><p>"You came here on your own?" Nicky sounds incredulous.</p><p>"I didn't know you were here," Booker reminds him.  "I only came for the bitch of a doctor."</p><p>"Not Keane?" Nicky eyes him doubtfully.</p><p>"He's Joe's," Booker says.  "It wouldn't have been my place.  Isn't my place."</p><p>Nicky studies him for a moment before he nods.  Booker explains how he had been exiled, leaving the thorny question of Quỳnh aside, and how he had come after the doctor, apologizing for probably losing Nicky's rifle along the way.  Nicky half-shrugs at that.  He's never cared for possessions, neither him nor Joe.  </p><p>"I'll buy you a new one once we're out of this," Booker promises.</p><p>"You said we were waiting," Nicky says,  "but the others do not know you are here, you said."</p><p>"Copley probably told them before I made it back to the building," Booker says.  </p><p>"I do not think Joe would come to rescue you," Nicky says carefully.</p><p>"He wouldn't," Booker says.  "But I sent Copley the video I took of them pulling you out of the lab this morning.  Joe will always come to rescue <em>you</em>."</p><p>Nicky smiles faintly.  He doesn't argue.</p><p>"So, we just have to hold out until they get here," Booker finishes.  "If there are so many guards, we might not be able to fight our way out."</p><p>"Maybe," Nicky says before the sounds of approaching footsteps rekindles the banked fury in his eyes.  The guards who come around the corner die fast.  Booker takes down two who try to run.  Nicky handles the other six.  They don't get another chance to talk until they've cleared the floor.  Sebastien finds a small room just off from one of the open hallways where they can get their backs against the wall.</p><p>Nicky's bruised and bleeding.  Sebastien can't stop staring at his injuries as they slowly knit closed.  Nicky taps his shoulder and Booker drags his eyes up to look at Nicky's face.  "You're alright?"</p><p>"It's wearing off," Nicky says.  "It gets faster every time.  She was...annoyed with that."</p><p>"Fucking bitch," Booker growls.  Nicky shakes his head disapprovingly.</p><p>They sit in silence for a minute, listening for any signs of life beyond their door.  Only their breathing, harsh in the crowded space.  Nicky has a handgun and a combat knife with the tip snapped off.  Booker has a pistol and a handgun.</p><p>"This is just like Oulu," Booker says wryly.</p><p>"Not so cold," Nicky says and Booker catches his eye.  They both collapse into giggles.  As much hysteria as actual amusement but fuck, Booker has <em>missed</em> him.  Nicky laughs quietly and Booker clears his throat.  Nicky looks at him.</p><p>"I'm sorry," he says.  "For...for Copley.  For Merrick."</p><p>Nicky says nothing.</p><p>"I just wanted an end," Booker says.  "I wanted it to stop!"</p><p>"So you said," Nicky says impassively.</p><p>"I didn't..." Booker sighs.  "I don't think I believed that it would.  Copley was very convincing.  He made it sound ...noble, I guess?"</p><p>"Mr Copley is very persuasive," Nicky says.  "He wishes to save the world."</p><p>"A little like you," Booker says.</p><p>Nicky shakes his head.  "I lack his ambition.  We cannot save the whole world, Sebastien.  It would be hubris to try.  We can only save the people we can reach."</p><p>"Doing good," Booker remembers.</p><p>"Si," Nicky says.  He hisses, hand pressing against his side and Booker can hear the grating sound of bone on bone.  Rib, he's pretty sure.  He catches himself before he actually touches Nicky, hands hovering in the air between them.  Nicky breathes through his nose, hands curling into fists as he waits out the pain.  Booker is going to shoot that bitch in the fucking face.</p><p>Nicky doesn't speak and Booker has nothing else to offer.  Hollow excuses would be an insult.  Nicky knows him too well.  Booker's honesty is the only thing he can offer.  If that's not enough...well, Booker can work on earning his forgiveness later.  Nicky's too kind to set an impossible penance.  Booker looks at the door.</p><p>"They'll figure out we're not moving soon," he says.  </p><p>"They will try to overwhelm us," Nicky says.  "Their leader, Keane, he is a proud man and he does not care to be defied."</p><p>There's volumes unspoken in Nicky's careful tone.  Booker growls low in his throat.  Keane is Joe's prey, he reminds himself.  It's not Booker's place.  He might bloody the bastard's face if he gets the chance but he's not going to kill Keane.  He'll just hold Joe's coat when Joe kills him.  He nudges his foot against Nicky's and smiles when Nicky looks up at him.</p><p>"You should have more faith," he says and Nicky's eyebrows rise sharply.  "A thousand says the others beat them here."</p><p>Nicky blinks at him and Booker's smile wavers.  Nicky wets his lip.  "Euros?"</p><p>"That should pay for a proper pasta dinner," Booker can't resist the urge to up the stakes.</p><p>"A dinner?" Nicky says.</p><p>"The one you made in Palermo," Booker presses recklessly. "1892."</p><p>Nicky hums.  "That is not worth a thousand."</p><p>"No," Booker says.  "It's worth more."</p><p>Nicky stares at him, eyes tracking his expression.  Booker feels his ears burn but he lifts his chin and meets those cool eyes.  Nicky huffs.  "Bene."</p><p>Booker's smile makes his cheeks hurt.  "Grazie, Nicky."</p><p>"Venison, not pork," is all Nicky says and Booker has to duck his head and wipe his eyes.  The unspoken promise, that this will be a family dinner, is almost more than he can bear.</p><p>He is saved from trying to put the messy tangle of feelings into words when an explosion shakes the building.</p><p>"Structural," Nicky says clinically.</p><p>"Andy," Booker says and they both smile.  "We need to move."</p><p>"Si," Nicky pushes himself up.  He's still slower than he should be but Booker swears that the bruises are fading faster.  He's still afraid.  It might just be wishful thinking.  He's not going to stop Nicky either way.  </p><p>"Keane's going to be looking," <em>for you,</em> Booker almost says, "for us."</p><p>"Si," Nicky peers around the corner.  They have met men like Keane before.  Nothing more needs to be said.</p><p>The emergency door to the stairs crashes open.  </p><p>The first gunshots cut through the air.  They miss.  Then Nicky puts three bullets through five heads.  The charge falters as the guards trip over the dead.  Nicky drops his gun and goes for the combat knife.  Booker gets a handful of shots off but again, Nicky does most of the damage.  He's efficient in his savagery.  Booker hangs back.  He's only seen Nicky in a rage a handful of times and never without Joe right there to calm him.</p><p>Keane is smarter than his men.  Booker doesn't see him until the shot that blasts through Nicky's leg.  Booker grabs his shoulder and half-throws Nicky back behind the corner.  He takes a bullet through the chest for his trouble.  He lands on Nicky, mostly from desperation.  He has no bullets left.  He twists to keep himself between Nicky and Keane.  He sees Keane stop and turn to look at the door behind him.</p><p>There's another explosion.  Keane staggers.  Then Joe is there.</p><p>Joe is thin, hair lank and bruises under his eyes.  His skin is almost the colour of the grey dust swirling around him.  Keane brings his gun up.  Joe knocks it aside with his saif.  There is no emotion in his face.  Only his burning eyes.  Keane flinches back.  Joe's slash drops Keane to his knees.  His gun is too far.  Keane sneers at Joe, eyes wide with the fear he's trying to hide.</p><p>"You shot Nicky," Joe says tonelessly.  He looks down at Keane.  "You shouldn't have done that."</p><p>Keane's mouth opens.  Joe's saif cuts off his final words along with his head.  The body slumps over.  Joe lets his shoulders fall, saif hanging from his hand.  He looks devastated.  Booker chokes on his cry.</p><p>"<em>Yusuf</em>," Booker barely hears Nicky's whisper.  Joe jolts like he's stepped on a mains line.  His eyes are enormous as his head jerks around.  Booker lurches out of the way.  </p><p>He can't look at Joe's expression.  It's too much.  He steps forward, catching the saif as Joe lets it fall.  Joe and Nicky fall into each other's arms like they're drawn by magnets.  Booker hears Joe's sobs and the soft murmur of Nicky's voice.  He scoops Keane's gun up and shoots the three guards hanging back by the elevators.  He sticks his head around the door to the stairs.  No sign of life.</p><p>When he turns back, Joe has his face buried in Nicky's neck, clutching Nicky to him with white-knuckled hands.  It has to hurt but Nicky is stroking a hand through Joe's curls, whispering loving words with a smile.  Joe's whole body is shaking with his sobs and Booker recognizes some of the prayers that spill from his lips.</p><p>"Guys," he calls.  "We need to get out of here, huh?  Before the boss brings the rest of the building down around us?"</p><p>Nicky looks at him and there are tears in his eyes.  He's smiling, the real radiant smile that only Joe can coax out of him.  "Si.  Stavano arrivando."</p><p>Joe lifts his head more slowly.  He can't keep his eyes off Nicky, keeps turning back like Nicky's going to disappear if he looks away for more than a second.  His eyes catch on Nicky's leg where the bone hasn't finished realigning and his whole face goes grey.  "Nicky-! Nicolò!"</p><p>"He's fine," Booker says gruffly.  "The bitch gave him some fucking drug.  Slows the healing."</p><p>Joe doesn't even look at him.  Nicky cups his cheeks.  "It is not our time, my love.  Not yet."</p><p>His expression twists as the bone starts to slowly force itself back into position.  Joe catches him.  They watch the bone grate as it pushes back through Nicky's leg.  Nicky sways and Joe sweeps him into his arms.  He looks rejuvenated, colour rushing back into his cheeks as he kisses Nicky lightly.</p><p>"I have you, my heart," he says.</p><p>"Sempre," Nicky's smile is pained but genuine.</p><p>"We risking the lift?" Booker asks.  He's not surprised when Joe shakes his head.  "Bien.  Allons-y!"</p><p>The stairs are dark, full of dust as the building sways around them.  Booker keeps his gun up and the saif ready.  He can hear Joe and Nicky murmuring to each other, punctuated by Nicky's occasional hisses of pain as another injury slowly heals.  He can feel the tears flowing down his own cheeks and his smile is starting to hurt his whole face.   The world is back on its axis, God in His heaven and Joe is with Nicky.</p><p>Not even a fresh round of explosions can spoil the moment.  </p><p>They have to run down the last few flights, all of them cursing as they go.  The fresh air hits them like a slap in the face.  Booker falls back immediately to check the door.  No-one's followed them.  Joe doesn't look at him, making a beeline for an inconspicuous black car parked on the other side of the road.</p><p>Booker gets ahead of him to open the back door.  He's not surprised to see Nile at the wheel.  She twists in her seat and her shock takes up her whole face.  "Jesus fucking Christ!  Nicky!"</p><p>"Hello, Nile," Nicky manages a tight smile before he folds almost in half.  Booker winces at the sound of bone grating over bone.  He slams the door behind Joe and moves around to the passenger seat.</p><p>"Andy?" he asks.</p><p>"They'll meet us back at the safehouse," Nile says, like she's expecting Booker to argue.  Any other day and he might have.  Not today.</p><p>"Let's get out here then."</p><p>Nile throws the car in gear and they take off even as the distant scream of sirens echo from the adjoining streets.  They pass convoys of emergency vehicles racing in the opposite direction.  Nile keeps just under the speed limit.  She keeps stealing wide-eyed glances in the rearview mirror.  Booker looks once or twice as he dusts himself off.  He can't tell where Joe ends and Nicky begins, both of them are curled so tightly around each other.</p><p>"So," Nile starts.  </p><p>Booker shakes his head at her.  "Don't ask."</p><p>"I really want to, though!" Nile says.  "Nicky's okay?"</p><p>"He'll be fine," Booker says, looking back.  "But, uh, maybe give them a few months."</p><p>Nile laughs incredulously but she reaches out to switch the radio on.  Booker smiles at her.  He wrinkles his nose at the stink of vodka.  "I hope I left a spare shirt at the safehouse."</p><p>"You found Nicky," Nile tells him.  "You get a new shirt."</p><p>"That'd be good," Booker says, clearing his throat.</p>
<hr/><p>It takes four hours to get to the safehouse.  Nile's not going direct.  She takes backroads, backtracks and spends an extra five minutes at the petrol station to be sure the SUV that was behind them wasn't tailing them.  Booker doesn't say anything.  He gets a new shirt, a cheap cotton t-shirt in a plastic wrapper from the petrol station forecourt.  He bins the vodka-soaked shirt with a sigh of relief.</p><p>He doesn't know this safehouse.  Well, he's never been to this safehouse.  He knew it existed because Joe and Nicky used to stay there while they waited for the KGB to lose interest in their latest missions.  He's not surprised to find it's a small house with a big fireplace and cushions everywhere.  </p><p>Nile is the first one out of the car.  She darts around the car to open Nicky's door.  Nicky's still woozy from the healing and whatever's left of the drugs.  Joe has to help him out while Nile practically vibrates where she's holding the door.  As soon as Nicky's standing, Nile hugs him.  Nicky startles but his arms come up immediately.</p><p>"Welcome back," Nile says into Nicky's chest.  "We fucking missed you.  Don't do that again."</p><p>"I will try my best," Nicky promises.</p><p>Nile lets him go with visible reluctance.  Booker doesn't think she'd let him go at all if Joe wasn't right there.  She hugs Nicky one more time before she makes herself step back.  "I'm serious.  Joe can't cook pasta, like, at <em>all</em>."</p><p>Nicky's quiet laugh makes them all sway towards him.  "Spiacente, Nile.  I am sorry to have inflicted Joe's cooking on you all."</p><p>"I can cook," Joe's smile spoils his offended tone and Nicky smiles back at him as if there's no one else on Earth.</p><p>Booker has to pick the lock because Andy has the only key, apparently.  Joe takes Nicky straight into the bathroom and the shower rumbles to life.  Booker pokes around.  The rest of them haven't been here long.  If they even were here before Copley got the video to them.  He turns to Nile.</p><p>"Copley found you?"</p><p>"He called every phone in the house," Nile says. "Even the landline.  That didn't have a dial tone."</p><p>"Good," Booker says.</p><p>"I thought Joe was going to lose it," Nile says, eyes on the door to the bathroom.  "He was so pissed, you know?  Andy had to lock the door to keep him from just storming off.  He really didn't want anything to do with you."</p><p>"I can't blame him," Booker tries to smile.  "I didn't want anything to do with me either."</p><p>"I don't get it," she says bluntly.  "How did you know they still had Nicky?  Copley didn't have anything in their files or shit."</p><p>"I didn't," Booker tells her.  "I went looking for the bitch of a doctor."</p><p>"Why?" Nile asks warily.</p><p>"Because I wanted to shoot her right between the eyes," Booker answers honestly.</p><p>"Because of Nicky?"</p><p>"Because of Nicky," Booker nods.  "I owe him a new sniper rifle.  I wasn't as careful as I should have been with the one I took."</p><p>"I think he'll forgive you," Nile rolls her eyes.  "It's Nicky, c'mon."</p><p>"I still owe him," Booker says seriously.  "That's how I earn being forgiven."</p><p>He's not talking about the rifle anymore.  Nile nods slowly.</p><p>"Yeah, maybe."</p><p>"Is there any food in this place?" Booker says.  He really wants a drink but that's just old habits.  He wants to see Nicky.  He wants to touch Nicky so he can prove that Nicky's alive.  He'll settle for some food.</p><p>"Uh," Nile says.</p><p>There are some tins with no labels and something that might once have been bread.  Nile offers to go shopping but Booker would rather have the extra set of eyes.  Nicky's going to be distracted.  Joe's going to be useless until he's satisfied that Nicky isn't going to be taken again.  That leaves Booker and Nile to keep watch.</p><p>"Boss'll stop on her way," he tells Nile.  </p><p>Booker's more surprised than she is when Andy's car pulls into the long driveway and it turns out Andy did stop for food.  Booker comes out to take the bags from her.  She looks at him and Booker shrugs.</p><p>"Shower stopped about five minutes ago," he says.</p><p>Andy smiles at him.  He's surprised when she hugs him.  "You did good, Book."</p><p>"You know?  I think I did." Booker smiles back at her.</p><p>Then she pushes past him and Booker hears the bathroom door squeal open.  He hears Nicky's "Andy?" then the hinges squeal again.  Quỳnh is still watching him.  He can't read her expression at all.  He doesn't try, just collects up all the bags (did Andy pillage a supermarket?) and goes back inside.</p><p>Quynh loses interest in him pretty quickly.  Nicky's wearing loose cotton pyjama pants, all of his injuries finally healed and he's smiling brighter than the sun.  Nile's hovering, Andy has an arm hooked over his shoulders and Quynh keeps touching him lightly.  </p><p>Nobody notices Booker slip out the back door.  It's night already; only the barest sliver of moon casting any light.  If Booker was a good man, he'd go now.  Back to Paris to wait out his hundred years.  He's not a good man.  He's too weak.  Too selfish.  He can't force himself away from the warm gold glow shining from the windows.</p><p>He can't go back in either.  He leans back against the wall and stares up at the sky.  The night is crystal cold and he thinks that he can see every star in the sky.  His breath mists the air as he sighs.  He could really, really use a drink, he thinks.</p><p>He doesn't hear Joe come through the door.  Booker jumps when he sees him standing there.  He can't see Joe's expression only the angle of his shoulders and how tightly his arms are folded.  He's only seen Joe like this once or twice; Nicky's usually there to soothe his beloved's anxiety before it gets this bad.  Booker's eyes flick to the window, he can hear Nicky in the kitchen, see the others crowded around him.  Joe is half-turned towards the kitchen window.  Booker sees the gleam of his eyes as he checks Nicky is still there.  He'll be doing that for a while, Booker thinks.</p><p>Booker licks his lips.  He doesn't know what to say.</p><p>Joe breathes out, a gusty sigh that could mean anything.  "Why?"</p><p>"Why what?" Booker says before he can catch himself.  </p><p>"Why?" Joe repeats.</p><p>Booker can't help stealing a glance through the window.</p><p>"I loved my wife for a quarter of a century."  He sees Joe's frown and sweeps his hands out.  "And I mourned her for two hundred.  I've loved Nicky for two centuries.  It shouldn't be a suprise that I did something stupid."</p><p>Joe stares at him.  "You love Nicky?"</p><p>"Oui," Booker sighs.  "And you, and Andy, and Nile.  Not Quynh.  Not yet.  But I'll get there."</p><p>"You love us?" Joe demands, disbelieving.</p><p>"You are my family." Booker says.  He never said that before, he doesn't think.  Not to them.  He should have.  "Of course I love you.  I'm a fool and a coward and I make some really bad choices.  That doesn't mean I don't love you.  I'm just shit at showing it."</p><p>"I'll say," Joe says then he stops.  He takes another deep breath.  "You found Nicky."</p><p>"I didn't know he was there," Booker feels exhausted all of a sudden.  "If I'd known he was alive...if I'd <em>any clue</em>...I would have told you.  In London.  I'd have stayed with you until he woke if I'd thought for a second he was going to."</p><p>Joe searches his expression before he nods.  "Why didn't you wait?  You could have waited."</p><p>"They had Nicky," Booker's voice cracks.  "He was alone.  He didn't even know what had happened.  I couldn't leave him like that."</p><p>"You could," Joe says flatly.</p><p>"No," Booker stares him in the eye.  "I couldn't."</p><p>Joe snorts.  Booker shrugs.</p><p>"I don't know what you want me to say," he says.  "I thought Nicky was dead, same as you.  I thought I'd gotten him killed because I was a fool and a coward and everything else!  I went looking for that bitch so I could do something that wasn't dying from liver failure.  I saw that he wasn't through a fucking scope and I had to...I had to <em>know</em> he was okay."</p><p>Joe watches him for a minute.  He nods once, the jerky motion that means he's feeling too much to express and he turns away.  Booker lets his head drop forward, drained.  Joe stops.  When Booker looks up, he sees Joe stepping through the door to the kitchen where Nicky is cooking and the rest of their family are waiting.</p><p>Joe leaves the door open.</p>
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